Renegade
by The Black Goldilocks
Summary: After unsheathing Kurikara, after destroying the Gehenna Gate in a failed attempt to save his real father, Rin sat only a few moments next to the bloody and broken body of Shiro Fujimoto. He fled, leaving everything behind to live a life as a renegade, hunted by both sides of the war. - AU, rated T for blood and swearing
1. The Abomination I've Become

Renegade

**Prologue: The Abomination I've Become**

"Father…"

It was all his fault, and there was no use in denying it. If he hadn't screamed at his father, if he hadn't hurt him so much, then none of this would've happened. Or if he hadn't picked that one fight with that guy who liked to shoot pigeons and cut their legs off, the guy that turned out to be possessed by a dangerous demon, then there had never been a need to reveal all this. If he had just… if he was just not the violent delinquent he had turned out to be, then they could've lived an easier life with few hardships.

But it was impossible to turn back time. All what he's done couldn't be changed and all that's happened would forever be in what now was the past.

After his sobs had subsided, he shakily stood up, finally looking away from Shiro Fujimoto's bloody and broken body. Tears were still flowing down his cheeks, but he had no intention of wiping them away. It felt as if his heart had been ripped out of his chest, and then shoved back brutally, bloody, beaten and bruised.

The room was a gory mess filled with remnants of the Gehenna Gate Rin ignored as he walked to his packed bag that lied in the corner. His legs were trembling, just as his whole body was, and his breaths still came out haggardly. His sword was clenched in one of his white-knuckled fists as if he had no intention of letting it go in his entire life. And somewhere, it would be true. Kurikara was never to leave Rin's side, that's what Shiro had said, and that was what his son would make sure of.

He needed to get out of there, as soon as possible, before anyone would notice what had just taken place in the monastery. Fortunately, the clergymen were all out or too far away from the room to have heard anything. But eventually they would find Father Fujimoto's body, and then Rin would be in severe trouble. Who would ever believe him when he told what had happened? Satan coming here to get Rin and then Shiro committing suicide to save him? That was a little too farfetched, and they were undoubtedly going to point their fingers at him, the half-demon, the spawn of Satan.

With a new source of fear he grabbed his backpack from under his bed, shoved some of the clothes and things he could need on the streets in it and searched for all the money he got lying around. He covered his sword with a red bag normally used for a Shinai, made sure he had the phone Shiro had given him in his pocket and ran.

He couldn't care if he looked suspicious, sprinting over the busy streets and pavements with his filthy clothes and shoving people out of his way with his with blood coated hands. The only thing that was going through his head was that he needed to get away.

He kept going, street after street, block after block. He kept running for only God knows how long, and it was not until he had almost ran into the brick wall of a deserted blind alley that he forced himself to stop. Only a thin line of sunlight could be seen in the distance, indicating it was already dusk. He had left in the late afternoon; he hadn't stopped for a single second.

And he was only slightly out of breath.

Rin let out a furious roar and punched the wall before him with all his might. The stones cracked and crumbled, but that only made him more desperate for destruction. He punched and kicked, swung at the wall again and again until his fists were bloody and bruised; until the wall looked like it had been hit once by a wrecking ball.

He looked at his scarlet, raw knuckles with a distinct feeling of self-loathing. Under the sticky red fluid he could see the white color of his bones, which almost made him think he had gone too far. But that thought soon vanished as the wounds suddenly started to heal over.

He barked out a humorless laugh.

The power and energy that he had had when he was young, the strength he had thought a talent for protecting his brother, had been nothing more than an inheritance. And now that he had accepted that putrid side of his, it had increased maybe even a thousand fold. A normal person wouldn't have been able to punch a hole into a brick wall. A normal person would've broken one or more fingers. A normal person would've felt a pain that was enough to tear them up. A normal person would have to wait maybe even a few weeks for the wounds to heal, leaving a white scarring afterwards.

But not him.

He had only felt a slight stinging, which had gone over into a tingling when his knuckles had begun to heal. And now, after only thirty seconds, his knuckles looked as good as new.

He leaned with his forehead against the sharp edges of the wall. What had he become? Why couldn't everything have stayed how it was? He had been content with his life as it was. A long shot from happy, but it had been way better than _this_.

It was all so fucking ironic. Be careful for what you wish, right? He had often wished for things to be different, but he had never asked for this. He had wished for a change, to become a better person. He had wanted to find a respectable job and keep it. No, that wasn't entirely true. He had wanted to be smarter, to be less violent, to be more like his brother. He had wanted to make his father proud and go to a high school, it didn't even matter it wasn't True Cross Academy.

And look at him now.

He had seen himself in the mirror before he'd fled the monastery. He was an abomination. His ears, fangs… his fucking _tail_.

Rin looked behind him through his tear filled eyes. The with fur covered black thing was hanging almost limply from his tailbone, making him wonder how he could've ever forgotten it was there. He almost didn't feel it, it felt… it felt _natural. _

With a surge of hatred he grabbed it and yanked forcefully. A sharp pain spread from his spine to every single nerve throughout his body, making him immediately regret that decision. He shouted out in pain and fell onto his knees.

"_Fuck_…" he ground out through his sharp clenched teeth.

He had to wait several minutes, which felt a lot longer than they actually were, until the pain had subsided to a dull throbbing on the place where he had grabbed his tail.

After letting out a sigh of relief, he desperately looked up at the star filled sky.

He didn't know what he had to do. He felt completely empty, so very different from the raging storm of emotions he'd been experiencing ever since the life-changing revelation of being Satan's son.

_Satan's son._

Rin clenched his fists, his anger flaring up again. There went his one second-long calmness.

He knew that he had to find a place to stay for the night, but that was it. What should he do after that? He would be in the news, branded as a murderer, or a missing person, he didn't know what the exorcists would do. But he _did_ know that they were going to search for him. It would be the best to leave the city, but wasn't that what they expected him to do?

Not pondering on it any longer, he got up and left the with graffiti smudged walls of the alley. But not before wrapping his tail around his torso, under his shirt where no one could see it. He had noticed that nobody had seemed to see his tail when he had been running through the city, but he didn't want to take any chances from now on.

It let a shiver run down his spine when he felt the warm, coarse hairs against his naked skin. It was just so… _wrong_ to be able to do such a thing. A tail. A _fucking _tail. His mind would never get used to it, even if his body already had.

When he got out on the street, he didn't know where he was, but he _did_ recognize the filthy little houses and run-down apartments of the True Cross City Slums.

Absolutely perfect to find a cheap place to stay.

He realized he looked rather worse for wear, but who didn't in this neighborhood? Places like this were filled with shady people.

He put his hands in the pockets of his crumpled and torn suit's trousers and started to walk through the narrow street that was barely illuminated by the mostly broken and flickering street lights. He liked to believe that he was fortunate the few lights were working, since he wouldn't have been able to see otherwise, and then be utterly lost. Yes, he liked to tell himself his ears hadn't picked up and understood the whole whispered conversation of two guys in one of the many dark alleys, and think that he must've misunderstood them.

After a thirty minutes of wandering through the unknown streets, he had found an inn that looked like it was about to collapse. Above the entrance flickered in bright red neon lights 'Momoka's Inn'; it almost couldn't be any shabbier.

"Perfect," he mumbled under his breath.

Rin stepped inside the moldy building, crossing his fingers and hoping the news hadn't spread yet. The clergymen would've found Shiro's body by now, and it never took very long for such news to reach a reporter's ear. But… would they tell? Or would the exorcists keep it to themselves? There was only one way to find out.

Behind the counter sat a middle-aged troll… er… woman, wearing a cheap, hideous kimono in bright pink and yellow. Her graying black hairs were tied in a messy bun and her fat, blubbering triple chin made her look like an overgrown toad.

"A room for one, please," Rin asked politely.

The bulging brown eyes of the innkeeper shot up from the book she was reading, which –to Rin's huge dismay- had the title 'Fifty Shades of Grey'. She looked up and down Rin's appearance, biting her thin lip slightly and giving him the creeps, but also letting him know she hadn't heard of him.

"One night?" she asked eventually with a voice dripping from the nicotine.

Rin nodded, "If that's possible."

The toad put a rusty key on the counter, saying: "That'll be a three thousand yen."

After handing over the demanded sum of money, he quickly grabbed the key and went to find his room.

The smell of multiple sorts of fungi invaded Rin's nose as soon as he opened the door to his room.

"_Well it… could've been worse?" _

There was nothing but a single bed that took most of the place and a bedside table with an old telephone. The filthy green carpet was filled with a thousand diseases, he was sure of it. The tiny, white-tiled bathroom only had a toilet and a sink of which the drain was filled with long black hairs.

He shouldn't have been surprised, really. For that price and this side of the city it was a fairly good deal.

Rin shrugged off his backpack and sword, placing them carefully on his dusty bed. After washing the blood off his hands with the slightly brown water that had come streaming out of the faucet after a while, he undressed himself to his boxer shorts and sat on the bed, Shiro's phone in hand.

And what to do now?

* * *

**I know, I know… I should be working on 'Wretched and Divine', but this idea just popped out of nowhere, pointing a gun at my head and demanding to be written! I promise I'll pour more time into my writing so that both stories will be updated frequently! **

**Thank you so much for reading the prologue of 'Renegade'!**

**Have a fantastic day, night or whatever ;D**

**Goldilocks x**


	2. The Road that Can't be Changed

Renegade

**This fic is rated T for a reason. Drug dealings and use are going to be mentioned, as is sex and alcohol and blah, angsty stuff, blah, coarse language, blah blah blah. I think you get the point. I don't think I'll make it too descriptive, though, so I I'll probably won't have to change it to M after a few chaps… But do say so if you think it should be :s**

**Chapter One: The Road that Can't be Changed**

Rin stared at the old Samsung in his hand, thinking about and doubting all the possibilities he had.

He could call his father's friend and ask for protection, or he could leave everything and everyone behind and start a new life elsewhere. The smartest thing to do, was trust Shiro and call this unknown person. But was that person an exorcist too? Who else would be able to protect him? Rin's knowledge of them was quite limited, but hadn't his father said that they killed or exorcised demons to protect people? Their job was to _kill _demons, not to protect them. They would never let him, the son of _Satan, _live.

Why had Shiro kept all those secrets _he_ especially had deserved to know? Why… why had he even bothered raising him? What had encouraged him to take the son of the most dangerous demon in? Which normal person would do that? Which normal _exorcist_? Maybe he had wanted to use him as bait when he got older. Or as weapon.

The half-demon scowled. He shouldn't think that way. His father had loved him and he shouldn't doubt that; he had given his very own _life_ for him.

Rin pushed the green button and held the phone to his ear. With every beep of the dial tone the knot in his stomach tightened.

"… _Why hello, Okumura Rin! I was wondering when you would call…"_

The teenager swallowed thickly. He knew his name. And he knew what had happened, or he thought he knew, anyway.

"Who are you?" Rin demanded tensely.

The man on the other side chuckled, making his anger spike up again for the umpteenth time that day.

"_My, my, so straight to the point! They call me Mephisto Pheles, I'm an old friend of Shiro Fujimoto."_

"My father told me you could protect me?" He hadn't meant for it to sound like a question, but his uncertainty was still much greater than his anger. Rin grimaced when the man needed several seconds to answer.

"… _Well… I sure would like to, but you see, I'm bound to some rules here, as a High Knight."_

The little bit of hope he had hold onto even after his pessimistic thinking completely vanished.

"You're an exorcist," he stated stonily rather than asked.

"_Mh, I'm afraid so, and I think you can understand that there aren't that many options for both me and you." _

"What do you mean?"

"_The great person that I am will sum up all the choices you, as the son of the Demon Lord, have… One, you can come to me, and therefore to the Vatican and be executed. Two, you can decide to flee and hunted down by both demon and man. Three, you can join your biological father and see where that leads you. And last but not least: four, you can simply make it easier for all of us and just commit suicide."_

Rin suddenly felt nauseous. "Do you really expect me to pick one?"

The man on the other side of the line let out a breathy laugh. _"Not really, no, but these _are _the only options you've got. You see, pretty soon your face will be all over the news, every sighting of you is to be reported to the police, and therefore the exorcists. Satan will not rest until he's got you. You have no place to go, no place to hide." _

"As… a friend of my dad, is there really _nothing _you can do?"

"_Believe it or not, but I am already doing Shiro _and_ you a huge favor. Good luck, Rin, you'll need it."_

Before Rin could ask what that so called favor was, Mephisto had ended the conversation. With a growl of frustration he threw the phone against the wall opposite him. He rested his head in his hands, desperation filling him to the brim. That last grain of hope he had latched onto had now completely vanished. It was final, definitive: he had to live the rest of his life as a wanted fugitive.

Rubbing his face, he let himself fall back on the smelly sheets, trying not to inhale the cloud of dust that had come out of them. He then stared at the green dotted ceiling with unseeing eyes. The first thing he had to do tomorrow, was change his appearance a little bit. Dying his hair was a must, how much he rejected the idea. Then he had to travel further away from the True Cross Prefecture by bus or train. Where to: he hadn't a clue. Away. The rest were details. A change of name would also be handy, and that came with a new set of papers. He had seen enough movies to know how these things were done. He needed to go to the shittiest part of the city with enough money, and he would have them in no time.

He pushed his bags of the bed and laid his head on the cardboard pillow.

With his new identity he could travel more easily, further away. With a little luck he could emigrate to another country… But maybe that wasn't such a great idea: his linguistic skills, to say it frankly, sucked. The only thing he could understand was Japanese and the little English he had picked up from TV and internet. Oh, and school of course, but he hadn't paid that much attention to it which he regretted immensely now he finally needed it. He should've listened to Yukio and done his homework.

Yukio. What about him? He didn't know anything. He was in True Cross, studying and working towards his goal of becoming a doctor. What would he do, feel, when he heard their father was killed? Or would they tell him he had just died in an accident? A heart failure maybe? And then, to top it all off, he would come to hear his twin brother had ran away. They were unbelievably close, how could they ever…?

Rin rolled to his side and closed his eyes, knowing very well he wasn't going to get a blink of sleep that night.

* * *

Maybe didn't have to do this.

Maybe he could just buy a hat, or keep his hood up. Maybe they wouldn't recognize him, who would look for him anyway? Oh yeah, the exorcists.

With a defeated sigh Rin took the tube of high blond hair dye from the sink. He had decided that the most opposite color would be the best choice, even if he would want to vomit each time he looked in the mirror. His hair wouldn't become completely white, though. He had already bleached his raven hairs, otherwise none of the colors would be noticeable, and now they would get a filthy blond color.

Oh, how he wished he didn't have to do this.

He shut off his brain as he washed his hairs with the product. And he had to admit that it could've been way worse as he looked at himself in the mirror afterwards. He would have to get used to it, but it didn't look that unnatural, especially with his deep blue eyes. His cobalt blue eyes. His _satanic _blue eyes.

Looking away from the filthy mirror he stared at his black tail. He moved it from left to right, watching the extra appendage with disdain. The fury from the night before had receded, what didn't mean he had accepted any of this. What was the added value of a tail anyway? He could understand the improvement of hearing, smell and eyesight, just as the enhanced speed and power, even the _teeth _he could see, but the tail?

Rin sighed exasperatedly. It was not like it really mattered anyway.

After looking everything was dyed equally, he rolled up his tail, put on his black t-shirt, dark blue hoodie and beige jacket, and left the filthy toilet of the central station with his backpack and sword. He had rolled out of his bed that morning after a sleepless night filled with doom thinking, and left for the first convenient store he came across. He had bought the cheapest muesli bar for breakfast and his hair dye before heading towards the best transport possibility.

As he maneuvered between the hundreds of people of the True Cross beehive, he felt unbelievably exposed. It wasn't something he had thought himself capable of, but now he put his hood on again to hide from the few stares he was given, he had to admit that he had gotten a severe case of paranoia. Some people might think it a negative thing, but he knew better. Having the constant feeling that someone was watching him would keep him focused and cautious, which was something he had to be from now on. It sounded and felt absolutely ridiculous -something from a bad action movie-, but it had become a reality for him.

"Oh, _fuck_, you've got to be kidding me."

He had been walking next to a newspaper stand and there, on the front page of the TC Daily, stood a big picture of him with next to it the bold headline: "Fifteen year old commits murder and runs". Taking the newspaper from the rack, he read the article, his stomach dropping ten feet below at all the outrageous lies and accusations that were flung at him. It stated that it was an 'argument gotten out of hand' after which 'the already problematic boy had stabbed his adoptive father with a pocket knife'. He felt sick after reading the sensational _fiction_ in which there was as much truth as his last history essay –which was completely made up, for your information-. On the bottom of the page stood a free phone number where people with information could call the police.

Clenching his teeth, he put the paper back and walked further through the roofed in station. He really needed to get out of there; too many people were giving him curious glances. Fortunately they quickly looked away after seeing his blond locks, which made him want to pat himself on the back for his smart thinking and extensive knowledge of movies. Regular, working people that were trying to catch their train to work weren't the ones to search for 'hit and run'-criminals, though, so the people that were _actually _looking for him would see right through the color of his hair.

The half-demon looked at all the trains that left within the first twenty minutes. People in small villages were a lot more perceptive than the ones in cities, so a big city was a must. There he could also find a way to earn money and get new papers more easily. But now, which city? Tokyo seemed like the most obvious choice, with so many people it was exceptionally hard to find the one you were looking for. But on the other hand, Tokyo was a city with a lot of security and cops. Osaka, maybe? Or Kyoto? He's always wanted to go to Kyoto, but it wasn't really the time to go on a field trip, he decided with a pout. Then Osaka it was.

After buying a one-way ticket –he was glad it wasn't on name-, he squeezed in the overcrowded train. And as he stood there pinned between two whales of women and an old man, he came to the conclusion that people really _stink. _The heavy scent of perfumes mixed with deodorants that tried –and failed- to mask the sour smell of sweat, made the half-demon with his new super nose light in the head. Breathing through his mouth, he tried to focus on different things and looked through the window.

He still wasn't used to all the little black demons that were floating through the sky like air pollution. He hadn't seen any other demons that morning, but he was dreading he would meet enough of them. They were going to search for him, _Satan _was going to search for him, or already was in fact. The world had gone completely crazy. Was it only twenty four hours ago that he had thought demons a figment of the mind? Something imaginary like a boogeyman that frightened little kids? All this time he had lived ignorant of what was going on around him, and now that he was so suddenly thrown into it he didn't know how to deal with it. The only things he knew of these creatures was what Shiro had told him that evening, dot. That's it. What did he have to expect? What sort of monsters were out there? How was he going to fight them off? With his sword and blue flames, that was true, but that wasn't very subtle. The exorcist would be right on his trail.

With a deep sigh he tried to change his course of thinking to something else.

* * *

The night had fallen, luring all the wrong and right people out of their hiding places to deal their illegal stuff, to earn some money, to have some fun, to fight. People with no real home, people whose dreams had completely shattered and driven them in a downward spiral into the dark business of the slums. People with pasts they could not run from and the people who were taking advantage of them. After the sun had gone down and the only lights that illuminate the filthy alleys were broken streetlamps, the real demons came out to play.

Rin made sure he didn't pull any attention to himself as he walked through the most run-down side of Osaka. He kept his hood up, head low, eyes fixated on the with cigarette butts filled pavement. He'd come across questionable bars and clubs, hookers, drugged up party-goers. He'd almost gotten into a fight as some drunken guy suddenly decided he didn't like Rin's jacket, but he got away by just ignoring his advances.

His eyes were flicking over the street, searching for a dealer. He wasn't looking for some sort of drug, but for the connections he –or she- might have. And finally, around one a.m., he found a guy passing a package to two scarcely clothed, well, teenage _girls_ actually, that undoubtedly held a good weight of cocaine.

With a carefully placed scowl he approached them, hoping he had chosen the right guy.

"Hey, you!" Rin called when he was within a certain distance, his voice sounding rather hoarse from not having spoken a word since he had bought that one ticket that morning. The shady guy was startled and his eyes shot at the new-blond with a look of pure terror before noticing he wasn't a policeman. The expression in his brown eyes immediately became interested and he shooed the girls away, probably already smelling the money filling Rin's pocket.

"What can I do for ya, man?" the guy said, lighting a cigarette and taking a long drag. Up close he looked even worse than from across the street. He was a slim, young man from around his mid-twenties, with sharp brown eyes, short I-just-fell-out-of-bed black hair and a little thin scar on his jaw. His jeans weren't just fashionably torn, but had also smudges of grime, food and even blood on them, his baggy shirt said 'I kno where tha bitchez at' and the air jordan's on his feet looked too expensive for his person. All the money he was earning with his dealings was obviously going to something other than useful things.

When the half-demon stood next to him, he demanded more than asked: "What sort of dealings do you engage in?"

The man smirked, shrugging. "The usual: Marihuana, coke, heroin, xtc, some LSD now and then… You interested?"

Rin shook his head and the man's smirk immediately fell while taking another drag from his cancer stick.

"I'm searching for a guy that can get me some papers, you know some?" the once-raven haired teen asked.

"I know a few guys, but believe me, their work sucks donkey balls. That dude from the Rumba - What's his name… John, I think, will know who you should be lookin' for. The club down the street is easy to get into. The guy always sits in the very back, wearing his brown leather jacket. Ya can't miss 'm with all the ladies hanging on his arms," he ended sourly.

With a curt nod and a 'thanks, man' Rin turned around and left for that so called 'Rumba'. Again he passed all sorts of people you would never see when the sun was still shining, or people you wanted to avoid just out of principle.

There were three sorts of them. The first were the modern day vampires: pale skin, dark bags under their eyes, going out _every_ damn night and sleeping all day long, always searching for a victim to spend the night with and hoping to somewhere get that addictive stuff they can't live without.

Yeah, I know. Not sparkly at all.

In the next group are the ones that only regularly try to wreck their lives. They go out only a few times a week and are what some like to call: the 'YOLO'- crew. Some might say that it is completely cliché, but they _do _all look the same- in a way. The girls are often an orange-ish color form their tannings, wear make-up enough to look like a clown and only take pictures if they are pulling the infamous 'duck-face'. Boys and girls alike go around in herds, because they would be _totally_ lost if they didn't have someone to talk to or show off.

Yep, also not that sparkly if you asked me.

And then the last group. They were the ones profiting from all the other ones: the dealers, pick-pockets et cetera. These were the dangerous ones. These people were your usual troublemakers and rebels, the ones that were out of their parental houses as much as possible or as soon as possible. Drugs, cigarettes and alcohol were no strangers to them, even if they were still underage. But who cared really?

There was also a little group of normal party-goers, but they went to the fancier clubs, not the ones in the slums, though.

Slipping past the bouncer who was loudly arguing with three teenagers, Rin grimaced as the sound waves of the booming boxes tried to make his eardrums explode. He kept pushing through the mass of dancing people towards the back of the dark room. A few girls and even a guy tried to dance with him or pull him towards the bar for a drink, but with simply ignoring them they quickly went to find another victim.

Just like the guy from the street said, there was sitting a man with a brown leather jacket in one of the many loveseats in the back, four scarcely clothed young women sitting next and on him. He looked like a foreigner with his light tan, gray eyes and long brown hairs pulled in a loose pony tail. Deducting from the dreamy looks of all the girls around him, he was above average to say the least.

The guy looked up as Rin stood before his table, eyeing him suspiciously. "Can I help you?" he asked with a very thick Australian accent.

The half-demon nodded once, "Someone told me you were the guy with the connections."

He sat a bit straighter and took a big gulp from the champagne that stood before him. Then he said: "I am. Who are you looking for?"

Rin shifted nervously as the girls around the foreigner started to stare at him. He'd never had too much attention from the female sex, but it wasn't as if he'd never had any girls that were interested in him. The most steered clear of him, though, with his reputation and all, but some seemed to like the whole 'bad boy' shebang. He'd dated two girls for a short period of time. It was always nice in the beginning, he'd had someone to talk to beside his family and the few thugs that had taken a liking to him after he'd kicked the ass of a guy that apparently seemed to be their arch nemesis. But the girls weren't exactly the ones for interesting conversations. They talked about the typical girl's stuff, or not at all. They also were rather keen on trying to get into his pants, what a hormonal teenage boy normally wouldn't mind, but seemed to repel him.

"A guy that's good with paperwork," the half-demon answered with a scowl. He knew he couldn't ask the guy to speak in private, but the girls could be dangerous to overhear things like this. They were the sort of plastics that would tell the cops or exorcist everything they'd heard for a little bit of money. Hell, they probably jumped in stranger's beds for it.

The guy pursed his lips, glancing at the girls by his side as if he had just read his costumer's mind. With a charming smile and a promise to see them later that night he sent them away. Giggling between each other they left the box, but not without giving both John and him some longing glances. Especially a redheaded girl with a cute face filled with freckles looked at him longer than the rest and even mouthed a 'see you later' before winking and following the others.

Rin blinked a few times, could he… would he… no. There was absolutely no time for things like that. He wasn't really in the mood for it anyway.

"Why don't you take a seat," the man said, motioning towards the cushiony chair opposite him. Rin sat down as John went straight to the point: "There are a few guys that are unbelievably talented in this stuff, but I think you know that comes with a certain price."

Rin didn't have that much money; it wasn't as if he was rich even before he had run away. "How much?"

"Three hundred bucks. A fair price if you asked me," the guy answered after ordering another glass of liquor from a topless waitress.

_Well shit, there you have it._

"And what about a two hundred?" Rin tried. He already knew it was in vain, but there was nothing wrong with trying, right?

John looked at him calculatingly, sizing him up. "And _why_ exactly do you have the impression I would lower my price?"

He sighed mentally, but straightened his back and shoulders. He needed to come over as someone intimidating, then maybe he could show the guy why he indeed had that impression. With his most menacing scowl he growled: "'cause I don't have the time nor money for an 'in between-guy' like you."

John's eyebrows almost disappeared in his hairline. "You sure seem confident for a newbie."

His scowl darkened. "And how can you be sure I'm a newbie?" Technically, he wasn't new to any of this. He'd seen stuff like this in real life. He had more experience than the average person. But it was true he wasn't an expert. Was it really that obvious? Things were going to go difficultly if everybody was able to see it even with his best efforts.

The guy smirked, a knowing look in his steel gray eyes. "I'm into this business from before you were even born. I know a fake when I see one."

"Look, Aussie, I'm anything but a fake, but I do admit that I'm fairly new to this. A two hundred bucks is all that you're going to get from me. So it's either this or nothing." He absolutely didn't have time for this. If he wasn't going to get any information from this kangaroo-lover, he was going to look for another guy. There had to be plenty in a big city like this.

"Wow, wow, no need to get all aggressive, blondie."

God, he was going to hate that nickname quickly.

"Two hundred's fine, but know that I'm not usually this generous."

Rin leaned back into his chair and put his clenched fist back into his pocket, only now noticing he had punched the table in his flare of annoyance.

"The guy you are looking for- Oh, thanks, honey," he interrupted himself as the waitress brought his vodka.

"The guy you are looking for is Tameki Umene."

* * *

**Ugh, I know, it's been way too long since I updated… But I guess you guys can understand how bitchy life can be. I've had a lot of homework and such, and seeing as I am going to be operated in a few weeks, I have to do my best to keep my grades up. **

**Anyhow, I hope you liked this chapter of Renegade! Maybe it's not very clear yet where I want to go with this story, but I can already tell you that he's not going to hide all the time and lazily sit on his butt. There's going to be some action, people! **

**I hope I can update this fanfic soon, but I also have to work on 'Wretched and Divine' and a second chapter of 'Illusion of Change'…**

**Well, have a great night, day or whatever :p**

**Goldilocks x**


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